


The Forgotten Secret - A Maze Runner Fanfiction

by imagication



Series: The Forgotten Secret Trilogy - A Maze Runner Fanfiction Series [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Action, Anything Else I Forgot, Drama, F/M, Fan-fiction, Fiction, Friendship, Gradual Relationships, Horror, James Dashner, Maze Runner Series, Maze Runner Trilogy - Freeform, Mystery, Other, Reader-Insert, Romance, The Right Arm, Wicked - Freeform, slight romance, tmr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5631796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagication/pseuds/imagication
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Maze. Many boys.</p><p>Nobody knew how to escape. Their memories had been wiped, and a new boy was sent into this place every month by the Creators. Eventually, they made their own little civilization within this place they called the Glade from weekly supplies, and they came to be known as the Gladers.</p><p>But their desire to leave never ceased.</p><p>Then, two new Greenies entered the Glade, named Thomas and Teresa. They were a strange duo, and seemed to have secrets-- more secrets than any of the other Gladers. They remembered things, felt familiarity, both of which never happened to any of the others. Ever. They knew things that were vital for their escape. But to truly survive, there was still an answer they needed that wasn't there.</p><p>Until a third Greenie was discovered.</p><p>And this one was the biggest mystery of them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hello!!! I've been waiting and wanting to write this for a very, very long time! I just had to get every book over time, and finally decided to really read them a few months ago. I was in love! So, of course I was inspired to write this.
> 
> Now, before you begin reading, I must clear one thing up; this is technically a reader-insert, but it will be based off of my oc. Descriptions will be vague for you, but the name will be my character's, but only because (SPOILERS FOR SCORCH TRIALS) the others were nicknamed by WICKED, so dear charrie here was, too.
> 
> Okay, now that that was said, I will mostly follow the books, but I will use the movies for character descriptions because it will be easier for me to remember. Also, I will not be using the same setting descriptions because I'm assuming you've read the books or at least seen the movies to know what everything mostly looks like. And, lastly, the supposed final book in the series, the prequel The Fever Code, should be the answer to all of our questions, but it comes out later this year. So if it causes any conflict with this story, I may continue it, but I will probably alter it, or make a separate version with my own oc and leave this to you.
> 
> Okay, there! Sorry for the long note! Now, enjoy, please!
> 
> Welcome, reader, to "The Forgotten Secret"; book one in a " The Maze Runner" fanfiction series.

Thomas watched as the other Gladers vanished.

He'd had the biggest shock of his ... well, of his current life. After amnesia.

The Med-Jacks had already vanished, carrying the strange girl with them. Newt and Alby were just specs in the distance now, their backs facing Thomas. They'd just called a Gathering to address their current predicament; Thomas's arrival, along with a strange girl the next day-- which was out of schedule with new arrivals and improperly addressed for supplies--, her words; "Everything is going to change.", and then ...

He shivered at the thought of the ominous words written on it ... the note.

'She's the last one.

Ever.'

Before Thomas could trap himself within his own mind again, however, he blinked and was relieved to see Chuck had approached him.

"Chuck, what's a Gath..."

The question died in Thomas's throat when he saw the look on the young Glader's face.

The boy had stopped in his tracks on his way to Thomas, and now he seemed to be frozen in place. His eyes were wide, and his face had whitened. He didn't seem to notice as Thomas walked up to him.

Chuck jumped when Thomas laid a hand on his shoulder, and looked at the older boy. "Hm?" He squeaked, clearly spooked.

Thomas had jumped when Chuck did, and he suddenly felt very uneasy. "Chuck? What ..." He hesitated. The day had been rough enough. Did he really want to know what Chuck had seen?

After a moment of Chuck looking at him expectantly, Thomas swallowed. He had the strange feeling that he needed to know.

"Chuck, what's wrong?"

The boy simply stared at him for a few moments, and it made Thomas very uncomfortable. Then, Chuck suddenly began to move his arm. He slowly lifted it in a straight line that was pointing to his right. His hand was clasped in a fist, and his index finger ever so slowly uncurled until it was as straight as his arm.

And his hand was trembling.

Thomas's gaze followed the direction that Chuck was pointing. His stomach turned when he realized that he was pointing at ...

The Box.

Thomas froze in place just like Chuck had. For a second, so many emotions whirled through him. Illness, fear, hunger, exhaustion, curiosity. But, despite how he felt, the ultimate question needed to be answered.

Did he really want to see what was inside the Box?

Thomas's short life within the Glade had already been hard enough. He'd lost his memory and had been stuffed in a place with strange boys he didn't know, all of his questions had either been answered with a question or left unanswered, and he could feel that he was being judged about this girl he wasn't sure he knew. And now, a Gathering was being held, and Thomas had a sick feeling that he was going to be one of the main topics, despite the fact that he was just a ... Greenie ... like everyone else had been.

He was tired of it all, and this was only his second day. He felt exhausted, hungry, and in need of a smile.

Really, he could just walk away from the Box, taking Chuck with him. Then it would lower, and the problem would be gone ... right?

Or, what if it didn't leave. What if the Creators didn't close the Box until the Gladers looked inside? Was it life threatening? A challenge? Thomas didn't want to face such a thing.

Or, what if ...

What if it was something that could help them figure a way out of the Maze?

Thomas knew what he had to do. Looking around, he saw that nobody had seemed to notice them. Probably paying no mind to a couple of Greenies. He sucked in a deep breath, and stepped up to the edge of the Box.

But nothing could have prepared him for what lay inside.

His eyes became wide, and sweat broke out upon his forehead and palms. A chill raced down his spine while his stomach twisted. He swallowed down a gag.

In a shadowy corner of the Box, blood had sprayed across the two walls and on the floor. The thick, scarlet fluid had strange markings in it. Following the odd lines with a sick, unbreakable stare, Thomas's knees weakened when they led up to ...

A bloodied hand.

And the bloodied hand was attached to a bloody body.

A bloody girl's body.

The girl was covered from head to toe in blood. It was sickening; some of the viscous fluid shone in the light, but the hot sun had already dried some of it, too. It was beginning to cake the walls, and the places where it was on the girl were no longer dripping, but becoming visibly sticky. Her clothes were so soaked, it was hard to tell their original color, and parts were stiffening as they dried in the heat.

Looking at her face, Thomas realized she was beautiful, just like the last girl. Slender, with small hands and feet and a dainty figure, she even laid there with grace ...

Thomas shook his head while squeezing his eyes shut tight, nauseated with himself. It was a girl that was clearly hurt!

Swallowing, he looked down at her again. No wound marks were visible from the height of the Box, and the shadows the sun cast inside didn't help his view. She was clearly unconscious ... or maybe even ... de--

Before Thomas could finish the sentence, she suddenly let out a heaving cough, and he was disgusted yet concerned when a mouthful of blood poured down from her lower lip.

She was alive.

Before he knew what he was doing, Thomas looked at Chuck. "Stay here." He ordered, and the boy nodded without a word.

Then, before he could change his mind, Thomas turned on his heel towards the direction he'd last seen the Med-Jacks go. He broke out in a sprint, hoping he could find them before time ran out.

"HELP!", he screamed at the top of his lungs, " MED-JACKS! HELP!"

People had already turned his way, but the Med-Jacks never came.

Thomas continued running, never decreasing his speed.

"PLEASE, HELP! SOMEONE'S DYING!" He tried again.

And this time, he was met with the figure of a single boy racing to meet him.

Coming to help.


	2. Chapter 1

'Remember, WICKED is ...'

'... She's the ... Always has been ...'

'... Counting on you ...'

' ... This might ... A little bit ...'

\-------

Her eyes opened wide, sweat rolling down her forehead. She could hear the sound of screaming and shouting; the shrill cry that of a young woman's while the urgent yelps of surprise and worry were those of ...

Boys. Men? Both.

When her thoughts were quickly resolved, one of said boys suddenly flew into view, along with two more.

The screaming heightened, and the boy in the lead shuffled up to her, suddenly clamping a hand down upon her mouth. Immediately, the screaming sound ceased, and she realized she had been the one making the awful noise.

As she sat there, eyes wide and trembling, her eyes scanned the room quickly. They flitted from the boys' faces, to their ragtag outfits, around the ramshackle room, and finally down to the ratty old cot she laid upon.

She could smell the ragged breaths the boys huffed into the air, and taste the light tinge of sweat from the palm of the one who had their hand pressed to her lips. The musk of earth, sun, and light touched these three strangers, and she began to relax, her eyelids lowering as her breathing slowed down.

The one who had silenced her, a dark boy with a bald head, began to slowly lower his hand.

She watched his fingers lower, and when they reached his side again, she risked a second glance at the other two. One was an Asian with slightly spiked hair, and the other had brown hair and eyes, plus lightly tanned skin.

After a few seconds, her hands unclenched from the sheets and she looked back at the first boy. He slowly opened his mouth, and her heart suddenly began to race.

"Are you okay?" The third boy randomly blurted out at her.

Before anyone could react, the girl felt something inside her mind click. She sprang from the bed with a loud caterwaul, then skidded across the floor to a medical tray and grabbing a scalpel from it.

The boy that had spoken let out a cry at her swift movements, but the other two faced her with steady expressions when she rounded on them, scalpel in hand. Her nostrils flared at the weapons they held her way, and there was a tense moment of silence as they stared each other down.

"Shuck it, Thomas!" The Asian suddenly huffed, although his focus was still on her. Despite the sudden outburst, the one she assumed was Thomas had jumped instead of her, "If you hadn't yelled at her like a shucking slinthead, we wouldn't--"

"Quiet, Minho! Now's not the time to act like a shank!" The dark skinned boy barked, although Minho simply rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, Alby." He grumbled, before smarting a little, "Shuck."

In the midst of their little dispute, she had snagged a couple more scalpels, and the two turned back to her just in time for her to flick a wrist and send one flying.

Before Minho could move, the scalpel whirred straight towards his arm, gliding across the fabric of his shirt. The silver tool landed with a thunk in the wall opposite her, and all four sets of eyes looked at the clean, straight cut through the cloth, an watched as blood began to drop down from a completely symmetrical cut.

Thomas swallowed in fear, while Alby rushed to his friend. She watched them, and noticed the humanity within their eyes. The care in Alby's, the pain and vulnerability in Minho's, and the concern beneath the fear in Thomas's.

After a moment, the girl's grip on the remaining two scalpels eased, and she let out a deep breath through her nose. She realized these people weren't animals who had captured prey, but rather young men who had helped a girl. Hopefully.

Eventually, she took a hesitant step towards them.

The three looked up at her simultaneously, and she opened her mouth to speak to them, when Minho suddenly charged her. Instead of trying to say anything, she leapt back again in alarm, brandishing the scalpels towards his jugular.

One went sailing past Minho's throat, nicking the side of his neck as he barely managed to dodge her quick way of throwing a second time. This only deepened his rage, and he let out a yell.

Alby and Thomas had both reached out for him, but they were simply being dragged along by their angry friend. "You shucking slinthead!" He was shouting at her, and she felt her hands began to tremble. When she had first attacked th boys, she had been challenging them, but now that she realized they hadn't meant her any harm, she was simply afraid and defending herself. "I'll bash your shucking brains in!"

She took one more step backwards, just to have her back hit the wall.

Thomas and Alby continued to protest with Minho, but he seemed to have shut them out. He was practically blinded by rage, advancing towards her with great speed.

She had the perfect target now, though. He was directly before her, vitals completely exposed as he stretched his body outwards to resist Alby and Thomas's pull. Her breathing quickened as she prepared to throw, eyeing her target.

But her hand was trembling, and she shook with fear as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

At first she had seemed deadly, but now that it came down to it, she didn't want to do this.

She didn't want to kill Minho.

But she didn't want to die either.

Sucking in one last breath, she raised her hand high. Minho didn't stop his advancement; if anything, his pace had increased. The scalpel glinted harshly in the light that filtered though the boards of the room, and she tilted her wrist back, then

Suddenly, the wall behind her fell away.

She stumbled backwards then fell into something warm. The feeling of soft breath hit the back of her neck as one arm wrapped around her waist, catching her, while another hand caught the wrist of the hand that held her scalpel, causing it to still.

Sunlight hit Minho's eyes, and he tripped then stumbled to a halt in the blinding light. Now he was being held down by Alby and Thomas as they gained their bearings. Minho, however, was simply laying there and breathing heavily, clearly tired and out of breath. His anger had passed, and was now replaced by bitter resentment.

She hoped he would let her explain her side, eventually. For now, though, she was thankful that neither of them were going to die today.

At this flicker of light in her chest, her hand went limp in whomever's was holding it, the scalpel sliding through her fingers. It traced a little red smile of irony down her palm, before clattering against the ground. A few drops of red followed with it 

Alby looked up, and breathed out a sigh of frustratio. "Shuck, Newt, could you get here any slower, you slinthead?" He exclaimed, finally letting Minho push him off. Thomas quickly followed his lead, backing away before he could get shoved as well.

"Ah, don't be like that, Alby." Her captor chuckled against her neck, his voice laden with a strangely captivating accent. "You three shuck faces couldn't hold off a bloody girl for five minutes?"

Alby opened his mouth to argue, but she beat him to it.

"My name's Ginnie."


	3. Chapter 2

For a moment, everyone was silent, surprised that Ginnie had actually spoken.

Her heart began to race again when they continued to stare at her, and she had a sickly feeling that they were reevaluating her like a fresh piece of meat thrown in with a pack of wolves. She felt like she was being mentally assaulted, when a gust of air passed by them. Dust was kicked up in the breeze, and it floated through the air, touching the injury in her palm.

She let out a hiss, suddenly pushing away from Newt.

Hugging her palm to her chest, she looked down to see that she was wearing what looked like a white dress. Lifting her hand to curiously inspect her body- she didn't even know what she looked like- and she didn't notice as the boys watched her with an odd brand of fascination.

She looked down at her feet; small and dainty, attached to fit, slender legs. Her palm stung again, and she noticed her hands were small too, but well groomed. Looking back down as a breeze ruffled her dress, she realized her feet and legs were bare. Then, as the dress moved, a few faint stains were caught in the sunlight. It was odd; the dress was actually rather worn looking, and oddly shaped ...

Ginnie's eyes widened. No way.

She looked up at the boys, her lips turning downwards into a frown as her brows furrowed. "What am I wearing?" She spat, before quickly rephrasing her question, "Who dressed me? What did you see? What happened!?" Suddenly sh felt panic. She knew about this sort of thing. What it was called, she couldn't remember, but it went alonh the lines of a girl being taken by boys, undressed, and ...

At first they blinked dumbly at her, then realized what she was saying.

Newt, a tall boy with dark eyes and straight-ish dirty blonde hair, was the first one to speak. "Nononononono, Gree- er, Ginnie." He coaxed, holding his hands up as he tried to calm her down. "Just let me explain." He continued. She took a few steps backwards, although she kept looking at him, allowing him to continue.

"Alright," he began, and stopped advancing towards her, though he didn't lower his hands, "When you first arrived here, Thomas and Chuck found you in the Box--"

"Who's Chuck? And what is 'the Box'? Where am I?" Ginnie cut him off, her heart pounding in her chest. "Wh--"

"Shh." Newt had gotten closer to her now, and he placed one of his hands gently upon her shoulder. "Ol' Chuck is one of Tommy's Greenie friends-- Greenies are what we call Newbies, like you." He added before she could cut him off again. "This place is what we call the Glade," he turned to stand beside her, and waved a hand to gesture to the large amount of land that stretched before them, then pointed at his chest, "and we're the Gladers."

As Newt spoke, Ginnie hadn't noticed that he'd waved off Alby, Thomas and Minho. They slipped around a corner of the ramshackle building and managed to escape her wrath.

Newt used his hands to point out the different areas of the Glade as he explained where they were, what they were called, who was there, and what purpose they served.

"We're in the northwest corner of the Glade, and this building," he gestured to the one behind them, "Is the Homestead, where the sick or injured go. We also sleep there sometimes, though we normally sleep outside." He nodded.

Ginnie's brows crinkled as she looked at him. "But what if it rains?" She asked.

"Never rains here." Newt said. "The Builders are the ones who made the Homestead, and that's rough work. The washhouses are around there, along with the kitchen, where our Cook, Frypan works. Bloody hairy, that shank is."

Newt gently put pressure on her back. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she slowly walked along with him, unaware that their feet were moving. Her senses drank in the surroundings around her, and she took in all of the sights, sounds and smells.

He continued to speak as they walked towards a large area, where several boys were working amongst rows of different plants. "This is the northeast corner, and these are the Gardens, where the Track-hoes work. Obviously, their job is to tend to and grow the crops."

He then pointed to their right, "And that is the southeast corner, where the Blood House is. The Slicers work there, and it's a bloody disgusting job." His nose wrinkled. It was a large stretch of open land, roaming with several farm animals. In the very corner, there was a faded barn. "They get often, so the Med-Jacks have to help those slintheads quite a bit."

Ginnie had a sick feeling she knew what it was used for, and she shuddered.

He pointed over to the right of the Blood House. "Those are the Deadheads in the southwest corner, and the ...", He looked at her warily, "Graveyard is in there, along with the Slammers. Baggers take the, er, ..." He trailed off, a grim expression passing over his face.

Ginnie placed a hand upon Newt's arm.

Newt tensed up a bit, but then glanced down at Ginnie and relaxed. She gave him a small smile, which he mirrored. For a second, he began to open his mouth to say something, but a shadow crossed over his face and he shut his mouth, then motioned to the walls around them.

"These are the walls around the Glade, and those," he pointed to what looked like large doors that were open and led out from the Glade, "Are the North, South, East and West doors. They lead to the Maze, where the Runners go."

Ginnie suddenly felt confused. A Maze ..? What? Wait, why was such a place surrounded? What was--?

Newt cut her thoughts off. "That building there," he pointed to a windowless building a little ways ahead of the South door that had a vault entrance on the front, "Is where they come when the day ends."

Ginnie began to ask a question, but Newt turned away from her before she could.

"The Sloppers take care of the klunk business around here," he continued, putting his hands on his hips, "And that's what you'll be startin' out as, Greenie." He smirked at her, as if he knew a dirty secret he'd love to see her react to.

Ginnie simply rolled her eyes, unsure of what 'klunk' meant, but deciding not to give him the pleasure of asking. These boys used a strange array of vocabulary.

"There are also leaders here. We call 'em the Keepers of all of the workers." he smiled. "And Alby's leader of the Glade. Has been for about a month now. But that ain't very long, though, so he might be a bloody shuck face every now and then 'til he gets the hang of it. I'm now second in command, so if he's ever buggin' you, let me know." He then stuck his thumb towards his chest, pointing at himself. He didn't seem very proud, though. He simply wore a humble smile. 

Newt pointed to the center of the Glade. "And that there is the bloody Box. It's where all the Greenies come from." He patted her shoulder. "We get a new supplies sent up every week, and a new Greenie ..." His voice trailed off, and he glanced at her for a second, before quickly shaking his head, "We get a new Greenie every month." he grinned.

"You came here, you were very ..." his voice seemed to falter a bit, before he said, "Dirty, so we washed you up. You were in a dress, so we washed you in that, then waited until you dried off enough to slip one of Gally's shirts on you, and then moved the straps of your dress beneath the sleeves and pulled it off from under the shirt." He explained with pink cheeks. After a few seconds, he looked down uncomfortably while shifting his feet. "We saw nothing, I swear."

Ginnie simply nodded, shifting her own weight and feeling just as awkward while she looked to her side.

Newt watched her from the corner of his eye for the longest moment as she scanned the Glade again, taking a once-over of the area. So, this was her new home. She had her hands on her hips, the warm breeze and sunlight of the Glade passing over her exposed skin. The cool grass beneath her feetswayed against her skin, tickling her as she let out a sigh. With her hair gently blowing in the wind, she looked over at Newt.

His mouth was slightly agape as he looked at her, and she became confused.

"W-What?" She said, slightly uncomfortable. Her arms crossed protectively over her body. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

After a second, Newt blinked his eyes and shook his head. "You don't seem worried." He simply said, although it seemed like he was mostly talking to himself. His eyes became suspicious. "Do you ... remember anything?" He suddenly asked her.

After a few seconds of looking at Newt, completely confused, Ginny frowned. She thought long and hard, trying to remember what had happened before she woke.

All she could remember was her name, the words WICKED and PEACE, and the color red ...

But anything before that was a complete blank.

"No ... No, I don't." She whispered in realization. She's been so busy letting Newt show her the Glade that she hadn't even thought about what whas going on, or why they were here.

Why she was here.

"I-I ... I ..." Her chest immediately began to heave, and she looked up at Newt in fear. Who was she? Who sent her here? Who sent any of them here? And why?

She wanted out.

Newt began to walk towards her, hands slowly reaching for her.

This was wrong.

Ginnie's eyes watched Newt's hands come closer, then looked up at him again.

She wanted out.

Suddenly, everything came back into focus.

Then Ginnie turned away from Newt. 

And she ran.


	4. Chapter 3

Newt let out a startled yell, reaching for Ginnie as she fled.

Consumed by Panic, Ginnie wasn't thinking when she ran. Her mind was a stretch of darkness. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes from fear when she couldn't recover a single memory of her life before the Glade, blinding her from her surroundings.

"We've got ourselves a Runner!"

"Not the crops!"

"Quick, somebody catch the Greenie!"

Ginnie's feet kicked up dirt in her wake. She was racing through the Gardens in her distress. Oblivious to the voices, she squeezed her eyes shut while boys ducked out of her way. For awhile, a lot of them either watched her in curiosity, or dodged her out of fear. She went through rows of carrots, straight past the tomatoes, and into the corn.

The leaves that had peeled down from the stems of the cornstalks reached out towards Ginnie as if trying to slow her down, or to stop her altogether. They were hipping her face and skin, tugging against her shirt. Eventually, she began to near the edge of the Gardens.

Suddenly, she broke through. Her panic had left, and now she was operating on a deep-seated, pure rage at whomever did this to her-- to them.

Running to keep her mind straight. Running to escape whatever trouble would meet her if she stopped. Running to save her life- or whatever was left of it.

Running to run.

Running.

A firm grip wrapped itself around her foot, and she went flying face first into something uncomfortably warm and viscous with a loud splat.

Sitting up slowly, Ginnie shook her head, disoriented.

Her feelings threatened to swamp her again as she sat there, humiliated when the sounds of various farm animals reached her ears. She'd managed to run like a lunatic through the Gardens, destroying who-knows-how-many hard grown crops, and then landed in a puddle of mud amongst the animals by the Blood House. For a moment, she just sat there, head in her knees as she considered lsinkinbg back into the mud forever.

That's when a firm hand touced her shoulder, and she jumped a little.

"Easy, Greenie."

The voice was young- younger than hers. It sounded like it belonged to a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen years of age at most, but gentle. Despite the age difference, Ginnie felt oddly comforted by this newcomer's presence. They didn't seem to mean her any--

"Well, Greenie? Are ya gonna do somethin', or just sit in the mud all day like a sissy that just klunked herself?"

Annoying. Very, very annoying.

With a frustrated sigh, Ginnie shook her hands clean. This received her a very disgruntled, "Hey, hey!", to which she smirked. Bringing her fingers to her eyes, she wiped away the mud that was layered there. She blinked a couple times, then looked around.

Just as she had previously thought, Ginnie was in the pasture before the Blood House. Looking to her left, she met the eyes of the boy. He was short and chubby with dark curly hair and pink cheeks. Forcing a small grin onto her face, Ginnie pushed herself to her feet while ignoring the humiliating squelching of the mud between her toes.

She held her hand out to the boy, and said, "Hi. My name's Ginnie."

The boy simply stared back at her, eyes wide, as if she had grown a second head. Ginnie cleared her throat.

Blinking rapidly, the boy shot his hand out to take hers, then halted at the last second. Looking down at her hand, Ginnie realized there was mud all over it, and she blushed in embarrassment. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he suddenly clamped his fingers down around hers and gave them a little squeeze.

"Name's Chuck. Nice to meet ya, Green-- er, um, Ginnie!" Chuck gave her hand a vigorous shake, and Ginnie was certain that he'd only touched her filthy hand because she was a girl.

After a few seconds, he let go, and she put her hands down on her hip, looking out across the Glade. She wondered what damage she'd done during her moment of carelessness, and turned to ask Chuck if he knew.That's when she noticed a couple of familiar figures loping their way.

And neither of them looked anywhere near as cheerful as Chuck.

Alby's cheeks were ruddy and his nostrils flared as he approached Ginnie, while Newt followed closely behind, his expression unreadable.

Ginnie's stomach sank, and she tried scrubbing at the now-dried mud caked to her skin. Her efforts at cleaning up were futile, though, because the mud was so thick it barely began to flake off before a loud voice rang in her ears.

"Greenie!" Alby roared, "What the shuck did you shucking think you were doing, slinthead!?"

Ginnie flinched at the rage in Alby's voice. "I'm sorry, I-I was--"

Alby's fists clenched. "You were what!?" He snarled, "Not thinking, that's what!" He took a step towards her.

Newt still had that mask upon his face, but he now put a firm hand on Alby's shoulder. "Slim it." He warned his friend in a stern tone, although his demeanor was still very calm and gentle in a way.

After a few heavy breaths, Alby nodded, though his piercing glare never left Ginnie's face.

"We must always maintain order in the Glade." Alby eventually huffed. "All of us have a shucking job, and we all work hard. Here, we ain't got time to laze about, and we sure as klunk don't have time to run around all day like sissies." He was pointing a finger at her now, and Chuck stood by her side with a grimace. "Your little stunt there destroyed a lot of crops, Greenie. And I ain't gonna stand by and let it go. You need to learn. So," he stood back, and Ginnie feared what he was going to say, "startin' tomorrow, you're gonna get to work. No special treatment." And with that, Alby walked away before Ginnie could say a word.

She stood there awkwardly, staring shamefully at her feet. Great, first day here and she was already in trouble. She looked to her side at Chuck, who had decided to stay with her for whatever reason. She had a feeling it had to do with her being a girl. With a sigh, she looked up, and blinked, mildly surprised that Newt had stayed.

For a moment their eyes met, then Newt quickly looked away. He'd been staring at Ginnie. Her face flushed hot, and she put a hand on her arm.

"Well, Ginnie," he suddenly sighed, and both hers and Chuck's eyes flicked to him, "Might as well get you cleaned up, you're bloody filthy." Ginnie blushed, but he waved his hand. "It's part of life here. Ya get used to it for awhile." He waved his hand for Ginnie to follow him. "Chuck, back to work." The boy turned, and left to do whatever it was he had been doing. Ginnie gave him a parting smile, then followed as Newt ordered.

Once they were well away from any of the other boys, Newt calling out to so someone occasionally, a thick silence settled between them. Ginnie felt guilty abouthow she'd acted. Instead of staying calm, she let herself lose control and panicked. Now she made a foolish mess of herself.

"I'm sorry." She said softly, daring to glance over at Newt.

She hadn't been expecting a response, so she felt a bit surprised when he looked over his shoulder at her. For a moment, he just looked at her; dirty, guilty, and alone. His face softened a bit, and he slowed to where they walked side-by-side at the same pace. "Don't worry too much about it, alright?" He said, giving her shoulder a gentle pat. "Every Greenie's scared when they first get here." He jabbed a thumb back towards the Gardens. "That way you acted back there was normal." Newt smiled softly at her, and she couldn't help but feel a little better as she smiled back.

After a moment, however, the expression faded. "But Alby--"

"Alby's always been a little rough around the edges." Newt silenced her. For a moment, Ginnie had a feeling there was more meaning behind these words, and she opened her mouth to ask about what Newt meant.

But, before she could, they'd stopped and Ginnie looked over to see Newt was looking at her again. "We're at the showers." He announced, a bit awkwardly.

Ginnie blinked. "O-Oh." She suddenly looked ahead at the building, her cheeks pink beneath the grime. "I don't have any--"

"I'll bring you some clothes later. For now, just focus on getting clean." He nodded to her. "Towels and soap are inside. You turn the knob left for warm water, right for cold. Got it?"

Ginnie nodded her head. Somehow, she could remember how to operate one, but she couldn't remember where at, or why. It was as if her past life was trying to reach out to her, but it wasn't quite working. It was a sad, empty feeling.

"Good that." Newt nodded. "You have thirty minutes. I'll drop off your clothes at the door, and you need to be out on time for dinner. The boys'll be coming by after that, so don't waste time." And with that, he promptly walked away.

Ginnie watched him leave for a few moments, before nervously stepping inside.

There were two doors. One door led to what she assumed was the restroom, and the other led to the showers. Stepping inside, Ginnie's feet met tile flooring. The room had concrete walls, and one side was lined with showers. Only curtains blocked out any wandering eyes, and there were windows above the showerheads. Ginnie shook her head, and turned to the other wall. There, she found towels and soap, and she sighed. Turning back around, she chose the shower farthest from the door, and proceeded to bathe.

.......

Ginnie wrapped herself up a towel, while fastening a second one around her head.

The shower helped her a lot. It hadn't been a life altering experience, but she had been able to clean all traces of mud away, like an eraser. And with that, it also erased her worries, at least for the time being. She had been able to relax a bit, and with that, she'd collected herself and pushed away her fear. If this really was her life now, she decided that we might as well get used to it now.

Besides, if she managed to play along, maybe she'd be able to investigate the place without people knowing.

Stepping from her shower stall, she turned to see a neat pile of clothing at the foot of the doorway to the entrance of the showers. A faint smile touched her lips, and she approached the bundle of cloth. Picking it up, she walked back over to her stall, and proceeded to get dressed.

Once finished, she looked down at herself. She wore a pale grey midsleeved flannel with a couple buttons down the chest open, the collar flat. She assumed Newt had tried his best to find the slimmest pants possible to fit her, but the pair of dark green cargo pants he'd gotten her were long in exchange, and she had to roll them up a couple times to her ankles. She had a pair of black sneakers on, and she'd tucked in her shirt in beneath a matching black belt. To her surprise, he seemed to have decided to give her a second chance with weapons, and she fastened the drop-down sheath on each side of the belt to both thighs, tightening them. Attached to the hip was a dull silver water bottle, and inside each sheath was a set of twin daggers. The clothes were lightly stained with dirt in some places, and the pants were ripped up a bit at the knees, but Ginnie smiled a bit. She could tell, from what she'd seen, they were probably some of the least worn clothes they'd had that fit her, and she appreciated it.

After everything was done, she stepped out of the showers, entering the outdoors again. She's raked her fingers through her hair until it was brushed as thoroughly as possible, and the heat of the Glade had quickly dried her completely. The sun had moved in the sky, and everyone was doing just as Newt said, and began to walk her way.

One had spotted her and, before she knew it, had raised a pointed finger at her while nudging a companion. Soon, several boys were staring in her direction, and the crowd had slowed considerably.

But, instead of letting it overwhelm her, she decided not to let it bother her like before. She gave them a genuine smile, and then began to walk in their direction while keeping down any negative emotions.

If she wanted her new life to work out here, she had to accept it.

Ginnie was one of them now.

She was a Glader.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope it was good! Please, please, please leave a comment and some kudos to let me know if I should continue! And also, please point out errors so that I can correct them to better the reading experience! And I'm open to ideas! Now, if you liked it, be looking out for the next chapter!
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> (All rights and credits go to their respective owners.)


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